


The Exchange

by ShesJustAnotherGeek



Category: Alternate Universe - Fandom, Kylo Ren - Fandom, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, American Politics, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, Breast Fucking, Choking, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Face Slapping, Face-Fucking, First Time Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Hardcore Sex, Kinky, Loss of Innocence, Loss of Virginity, Masochism, Masochist reader, Master/Slave, Mutual Masturbation, Nipple Play, Non-Consensual Spanking, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Political Alliances, Politics, Power Imbalance, Rape/Non-con Elements, Revenge Sex, Revolution, Rope Bondage, Rough Body Play, Rough Kissing, Sadism, Sadist Kylo Ren, Sexual Slavery, Spanking, Strong Female Characters, Triggers, Underage Sex, Uprising, Vaginal Fingering, Voyeurism, Women Being Awesome, collared
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:35:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24035953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShesJustAnotherGeek/pseuds/ShesJustAnotherGeek
Summary: In a Star Wars dystopian universe where people seventeen and younger are considered as nothing but objects to trade with, your biological family has had enough of you. They kick you out, or for a more politically correct term "exchange" you for a new and "compliant" daughter who will be everything you couldn't. You don't know where you'll go, how far away, or who you'll be with, but you know if your "good" isn't enough for your birth family, nothing will ever be. You decide right then and there to be known as so much worse for your exchanged family, but the family you're sent to won't tolerate it. Especially the only man of the house known as Kylo Ren.This story might have some potentially triggering content for some readers.Reader's discretion is advised.
Relationships: Kylo Ren & Reader, Kylo Ren & You, Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/You, Poe Dameron/You
Comments: 11
Kudos: 53





	1. The Exchange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting Mr. Ren doesn't go at all like you thought it would, and he makes sure to start your lessons early.

You hear your mother scream up at you from the kitchen, her sharply shrill voice echoing like knives in your skull. You don't respond, only covering your face with a pillow and letting out a grunt. It's hard to imagine all those years ago that she cared about you. The years where she would have you sit on her lap in the living room and read you a bedtime story. You felt like the most special girl in the world back then, but now, the only stories you hear are ones of your recent exchange member. How she will be a better daughter, a better person, a better everything than you ever were, and ever will be. You feel your heartbreak just for a millisecond, but it's long enough to know that your pain is there. That it isn't all pushed down inside you into a dark, disgusting globule of oil, ready for a match to ignite the flame of anger. 

"Save it," you say to yourself, "let it be the fuel for the fire that will burn everyone's life down."

You hear your mother stomp up the creaky linoleum stairs. You shoot out of bed and take your clothes off hurriedly, struggling to get your nightshirt over your head as you shake back and forth. You hear her angry stomps right in front of the door as you get the shirt off and hear the fast turning of the handle as it flies open, leaving an indent of the lock in the drywall. Your mother steps in your room, shouting your full name. A name she shares too and you hate it.

"I called you to come downstairs five times and help me make breakfast for our new daughter," she huffs with her arms crossed. You finally get the shirt over your head. 

"I know mother, I was just changing into my clothes." She looks at you with a grimace on her face. 

"I don't give a damn, have already had them on." You look at her with so much disdain in your eyes and shake your head. "Don't you shake your head at me young lady, you're so fucking lucky that your father lived as long as he did or else you would have been exchanged long ago." You ignore her, turning your back, and continue taking off your clothes. She says your name again, this time it's only the first. "If you aren't dressed and ready in the next five minutes you will go down there and meet your unlucky family with what you're wearing." You still don't turn your head to face her because if you do, the globule of rage will explode and you'll never be able to make her look like a fool in front of your exchange family. 

"Okay," is all you get out before she comes storming towards you riding at your hair. She brings her angry face to your ear, making you deeply uncomfortable. 

"You give me attitude one more time and I swear to God that I will make them see you in your underwear." She lets go of you and you nearly stumble onto the carpet floor. "You know what," she questions cruelly, "I think you'd like that, wouldn't you? I know how disgusting you are. How many sick fantasies you have written in your journal." You turn around, the black oil starting to bubble up to the flame. 

"You read my journal," you ask incredulously. "How could you? Dad gave that to me! He gave that to me!" Angry tears brim at your eyes. "That was supposed to be safe," you say more to yourself than her. 

"I'm your mother! I have a right to know what my disgusting daughter is writing about," suddenly her entire demeanor changed and a sweet smile crosses her face. She strokes your hair gently, smoothing out the frizziness from the bed. "I love you, honey, you know that right? Everything I do is for you." You stare at her with confused eyes. A part of you wants nothing more than to fall into her arms and apologize for everything you did. For all the pain you caused, for what happened to your father. But you realize this is another one of her tactics. She's gaslighting you. She wants you to apologize, in her eyes, for being a horrible daughter. She wants you to concede with her and gravel at her feet. 

Monster, you think to yourself. Despicable, manipulative bitch. 

And when you don't follow her wishes, she becomes angry again, stomping her foot in frustration. 

"I will finish getting dressed," you say and turn your back to her and walk to your closet. Your mother lets out a low growl and walks to the doorway of your bedroom as you hear the doorbell ring. You freeze in your spot, realizing what is to come. You hear your mother let out a laugh.

"Looks like your family is here," she chirps. You say nothing, frozen in fear.

"You're really making me do this?" 

"You need to be taught a lesson, and what better way to do that than embarrassment." Her voice sounds way too happy for someone is about to parade their daughter around in nothing but a sports bra and thin night shorts. 

"Please, Mom, let me finish getting dressed first," you say desperately. Before she can reply, the doorbell rings again and she grabs your wrist, practically dragging you down there. Your breathing becomes frantic, your chest heaves up and down. The once bubbling rage is frozen over with the icy feeling of embarrassment. Your mom lets go of your wrist and you immediately cover your exposed stomach. The flesh on your face heats to a bright red as she opens the front door revealing two people. A girl to the left and a man with his hand on her shoulder possessively. The girl looks to be about your age, brown hair, bright hazel eyes, a stick-thin figure. You touch your warm, squishy face. She's everything you're not, and you hate her for it. You go to study the man but find he's already studying you, drinking in your semi-exposed body with his briefcase in hand. Something fills in the pit of your stomach when seeing this man, but it's not anger. What is it? Fear? Intimidation? Excitement? Lust? Could it be all four? You do not understand. You just know that this man has to be the most beautiful man you have ever seen.

His overlong dark hair falls almost in waves over his ears. It looks so thick like you could run your hands through it all night and never tire of the feeling. They cover his face in freckles and moles, making him even more handsome to the eyes. His nose is long and almost pointed, but not too much. You wonder what that nose would feel like buried deep into the nape of your neck. It sends a shiver down your spine as you see him smirk his plush pink lips. Before you know it your lips part and you lick them, trying to get the imaginary feeling inside your mind. You see his eyes darken as your tongue goes out, a silent moan escapes from your lips. Before you and the man can keep thoroughly eye-fucking each other, you hear your mom's hands clap together as she speaks.

"Welcome to our home Mr. Ren, I can't express what an honor it is to meet one of our greatest political figures!" Mr. Ren's face betrays no emotion of gratitude or thanks at your mother's comment. Instead, he keeps his eyes trained on your exposed chest as it is rising and falling. "Oh- uh- come in, come in," she says while gesturing the two people inside. You step out of the way, averting your gaze from him. "I sincerely apologize for my daughter's inappropriate appearance. She knows not of how to dress for guests of your caliber, but I'm sure you can install that into her with one of your famous lessons." Your eyes snap up to her and then to him and then back to her.

"Lessons," you question with a twinge of fear in your voice. Your mother's eyes shoot daggers at you. It's as if she thinks you just insulted the president himself.

"Yes, lessons," the man's voice is so smooth yet intimidating. It sends a spark through your body and your legs twitch. "That is after all why you wanted to exchange her? To make sure her disobedience is no longer a problem to society?" He raises his eyebrow at her. "Did you fail to relay this message to your daughter, or is she just that disobedient she refuses to listen to you?" His tone is glacial, and it replaces the once unnamable feeling back with the oily black rage.

"Believe me, sir, I would never neglect to tell this child such a major detail." She's sucking up to him, how typical.

And she has the nerve to call me disgusting, you think to yourself.

"Good," he says "we shall make that the first lesson whenever we arrive at my home." You glare up at him, his face and tone are of indifference, but the gleam in his eyes betrays him. He's excited. He wants you to learn, but you fear not in a sane manner.

"I'll never listen to you," you spit out with more courage than you thought you had. Your mother gasps at you and smacks your shoulder, hard. You keep your eyes locked with his, making sure he sees you not even wince. A small smirk plays on his lips, but only for a second, only for you to see. It makes your breath hitch and you hate that it does. Then he's back to his expressionless face.

"Once again please excuse my daughter. She has a tendency to not watch her mouth and show very little respect for amazing people such as you."

"I must fix that."

You ignore the flush on your face and bite your lip, walking as fast as unnoticeably possible to the kitchen. The black teal tile feels cold on your feet and it refreshes your senses. You hear multiple footsteps behind you and you step beside the refrigerator, your back facing the people, and study the pictures on it. You touch a picture of your father, his red hair poking out at you as you try to get sucked into the picture with him. Trying to escape from this Hell, but you know you can't. Suddenly, you feel a firm squeeze on the right side of your butt as a hand moves the hair away from your face; the fingers whisking your neck. It sends a shiver down your spine.

"You will do best to watch your mouth when you're around me, little girl. We would hate to have to shove something in it as punishment." It takes all of your willpower not to moan right there and have him stuff your face with whatever he was talking about. Inside you knew what he meant, and it excited you.

"I have prepared a nice breakfast for you two, please sit. What would you like to drink, dear," she asks the girl who hasn't said a word since we met?

"I would like some orange juice, please miss," she says with an accent.

"Oh, honey!" Your mother says your name and demands, "get this girl some orange juice." You scoff at her, crossing your arms. "Now," she says, more demanding than before. Your eyes flicker for a second at Ren. He's still staring, his eyes are hungry, but for what you don't know. You grasp the silver handle and open the fridge, getting the bottle of orange juice out. You slam it on the counter with a 'thud' and shaking the dishes in the cabinets, you pour her the drink.

"Here," you say, thrusting out the cup so the juice spills on the floor. Your mother regards you with angry eyes but does nothing to retaliate, taking the glass wordlessly. The two guests sit down at the table, waiting for your mom and you to sit down.

"I would some coffee," Ren says, "make it black." He's not addressing your mom, he's addressing you. You laugh.

"Make your own damn coffee, it's not rocket science," you snap at him. Instead of getting angry with you he just chuckles.

"Make his coffee," your mother says.

"Whatever." You get a mug out of the kitchen cabinet and sit it under the coffee maker. You press the button and the dark water steams in the cup, you smile wickedly to yourself, an evil plan coming to mind. You walk over to him and "accidentally" trip, spilling the scalding drink into his lap burning his legs. "I'm so sorry," you say fakery, "I- I don't know what happened." You grab a napkin and ferociously dab at his steaming pants, pushing a little too much on his legs. He barely even winces. You look up at him and keep dabbing, trying to see if you're inflicting any pain on him, but he doesn't show it. He only regards you with angry, bloodthirsty eyes. They catch you off guard for a second and suddenly your hand is dabbing at the zipper of his pants. Something big and hard is under the napkin. You bite your lip, wondering if this could work to your advantage. You creep your hand back and forth along with the bulge, you feel it twitch under your touch.

He wants you. He wants you... Does he want you?

You take your hand off of him almost like it has burnt you yourself. You make him another cup of coffee and sit on your chair like it's the safest place to be. And honestly, it might be.

Breakfast goes without a hitch after the stunt you pulled. The three of them converse on topics you have no interest to care about. You poke at the eggs on the plate you barely touched.

His dick was hard. You think to yourself, you've never touched one before and this would be the first time. The first time you touched a penis was in a room with your mother and exchage'e.

"I never got your name, sweetheart, what is it," your mother asks the girl.

"I'm Rey."

"Oh, Rey, what a lovely name. I'm glad to call you my daughter." A pang of jealousy hits your heart. Why does she want an unknown daughter? You knew you haven't been the greatest, yes, you've done some unpleasant things, but why did she wait seventeen years to cast you out? Seventeen years of fake love, fake kisses, fake hugs, fake everything. What had you done to deserve this? How many of the years were fake? How many were real? Tears pool into your eyes as your heart shatters in a million pieces. You lift your head up from your plate and see that Ren is staring. His face is stone as usual, but his eyes look perplexed. You do a quiet sniffle and brush the tears from your eyes as your mom begins again. "So, let's get down to business." She gets up from the table with a screech of her chair and picks up some pieces of paper. Ren pulls his briefcase to the table and sits it down with a 'thunk'. "So, my daughter will be exchanged for yours, correct?"

"Correct," he says and reads from his document. "Your daughter," he says your full name, "will be mine. She is my property according I will treat to. This contract gives you the right to consent to her mind, body, and soul to me. You cannot under any circumstance be in contact with your daughter without my explicit permission." He flips the paper over to the next page and begins reading off more terms and conditions for your enslavement. But they fall on deaf ears. You stare into the abyss of your food and shaken by Rey.

"They need your signatures," she mumbles.

"No," you say firmly, "never. I will not become your slave."

"Slave is not the correct term for it, you are not being sold, you're just staying a long vacation at someone's house," Rey replies kindly.

"That is slavery, Rey," you spit her name out like it was a sour piece of candy.

"If you don't mind Emily, could I possibly have a word with your daughter in private about our contract? Maybe I could talk some sense into her," Ren says, cooly.

"Be my guest, but I assure you she will not be easy to convince."

He stands up and drags you from your chair. He takes you to the living room and shuts the door. Before you know it you're being pinned to the wall as he wedges a knee between your legs.

"What are you-", is all you get out before Ren's lips smash against yours. It takes everything in you not to kiss him back. His fingers dig into your waist causing you to groan out in pain. That seems to only encourage him. You try to get your arms free from his other hand, but he's too strong. You wiggle underneath his grip. His lips leave yours to get some air. "What are you doing," you ask pointedly.

"This is your first lesson. You need to learn to be obedient."

"That will never happen," you say back. He digs his knee up to your pussy and rubs against it. You ground your hips, seeking the pleasure you crave.

"Yes it will," Ren takes a staggered breath, "you're already so fucking wet for me. Look at you grinding your pussy against my knee, you're a greedy little slut aren't you."

"You can't be a slut if you've never had sex before," you say breathlessly as a wave of warmth floods your body. Ren stops for a second, studying you, wondering what to do next. He grabs the back of your head, pulling your hair roughly. It sends strings of pleasure through your body and you let out a moan.

"You like pain?" You don't respond, and he pulls your hair again. You feel some strands being taken out of your scalp.

"Yes," you say as your hands scrape at his chest.

"You want your tight little virgin pussy fucked, don't you?" You say nothing as his teeth dig into your shoulder and you cry out in pain. "Say it," he says with his mouth muffled and bites down again. He for sure left a mark there.

"Yes! Yes, I want my virgin pussy fucked. I want your cock to fuck it until I can't walk anymore!"

"I think we have to take care of the dirty little mouth of your first, hm?" Your eyes grow wide. "Yes, we do." Ren snickers and removes his leg as he lets go of your hair. You fall to the floor, landing on your knees. "You're already begging for me and I haven't even shown you my cock yet." He unbuckles his belt and you see his hard dick spring free. It has a slight drop of pre-cum on it. You instinctively open your mouth and reach a hand out for it, but he stops you. "Beg." You shake your head at him in defiance, rage flashes in his eyes as his hand goes to your throat. "Beg, or I'll choke you." You feel your pussy clench at the thought of him choking you, giving him your life in his hands made you want to scream with pleasure.

"Do your worst." He growls and slams your head against the wall, squeezing your throat. Your eyes flutter closed as your hand makes its way to your pants, but Ren's strong one stops you.

"No, no. I didn't say you could do that." He loosens his grip on your neck. "Beg for my cock." When you don't his grip tightens again. "Beg for my fucking cock." You can't take it anymore, your head feels dizzy.

"Please, can I have your cock, Mr. Ren? I need it so badly. I need you to teach me a lesson. I need your cum. Please, please let me have your-". He cuts you off with a single thrust of his dick. The sound of it sliding in makes you moan, it sounds so lewd. Ren keeps pushing your head back and forth on his cock. It hits the back of your throat over and over, causing you to gag. You fear for a second that the eggs from breakfast might come out, but you let your jaw loose. You move your tongue along his throbbing dick and he lets out a deep moan. 

"Fuck," he says as your nose slams into his happy trail. "You like that, do you? Ah, yes you do." Your eyes water as drool dribbles out of your mouth. "I wish you could stay like this forever. You're mine. You're my pet to do what I want with. You're my fucking slave!" He keeps his hand on the back of your head, slamming your face into his black hair. He smells of laundry detergent and pure, unadulterated sex. And with the last thrust of his hips, he comes. It lands on your palette, tasting salty and bitter. Yet, to you, it's the best thing you've ever tasted and craves more of it. He pulls his dick out and smooths your hair with his hands as he lifts you up. He brushes it back from your face and wipes the tears from your eyes. "When we get home, you're pussy will drip with my cum." The thought of that makes your walls clench.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading my first try at a smutty story. I hope you like it. 
> 
> Personally, I don't like writing in the second person because it feels almost juvenile, but I thought I should give it a go. Who knows? Maybe I'll like writing this way better and so will you (the readers).


	2. A New Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The car ride to your new home becomes a lot more interesting with Ren as your driver. This brings you to make some rash mental decisions.

Ren stuffs himself back in his pants as you stare wordlessly. You can't believe that this man only seconds ago had you begging on your knees. No one has ever made you do that before, not your mother, father, or even preacher has made you be in such a vulnerable position. Your body warms at the thought that he could make you do that, but your mind is disgusted at you, and vow right then and there to never let him or another person ever make you this weak again. Wiping your mouth you ask, 

"Are these the lessons you are so well known for? Is this how you taught Rey?" He raises an eyebrow at you, amused with the question, but he doesn't answer. "How old are you? You know I'm only seventeen right," your query sounds more like a statement and he huffs annoyed as he zips up his pants. 

"You ask too many questions for someone who just got their face fucked." It's your turn to huff and you cross your arms over your chest, averting your gaze from his. "Pull your shorts down, they're riding up into your crotch." You drop your arms and look ashamed, seeing a wet spot on them and quickly remove the fabric from your folds. Ren walks to the door opening it and stepping out as if nothing happened. Why did he bring you in here again? You don't have any more time to think as your feet move out into the hallway, carrying your numb body to the kitchen. Your mom promptly gets out of her chair and hands you a pen, reminding you why he wanted to "speak" in private. He wants you to be his slave. To be his property and nothing more. A part of you turns cold at the notion of just being an object in his eyes, but the other- the other want's nothing more than to give him everything he desires just so you can feel the way you did in that living room again. Without using your better judgment you sign your name on the papers. You feel a large hand quietly lay on the small of your back. You don't have to look to know whose it is. 

The green tops of trees whiz past your vision. You try to focus on them, your eyes moving rapidly, but the car is too fast. The ride to your new home is filled with nothing but silence. Ren doesn't even grace you with the dignity of the radio instead, he has the rumble of his engine fill the void. Your heart pounds with the anticipation of the thought of your new home. You wonder what your life will be like. You know that nothing will ever be the same again. 

Dad, you think to yourself, all your memories of him are in that house. They're memories you'll never get back, and your heart aches at the realization.

You turn your head from the window and focus on the shaking hands in your lap. Dry cuticles surround the sides of your thumbs and you pick at them, trying to get your mind off the pain in your ribcage. The riping causes stingings of pain up through your hand, it provides a small relief. Before you left you were allowed to change into normal clothes, which you had been thankful for. You wanted to get any notion of Ren's "lesson" out of your mind. You squirm in your seat as heat creeps up your neck, the images of Ren's eyes piercing into your own. They were filled with such lust- such hunger. You're sure your own mirrored his. 

"Be still," Ren says breaking the silence. You listen but the anxiety builds up within you and your leg begins bouncing. He sighs, removing his hand from the steering wheel and placing it on your thigh. It sends jolts of electricity through your body and your breath hitches. "Be still," his tone is more firm than before. You oblige and put all of your attention to the road ahead of you. The car floods back into nothingness. The entire trip Ren has his hand on your thigh, he rubs soothing circles on it with his thumb and you stare. This man is so confusing. First, he regards you with nothing, then he smacks your ass, degrades you in front of your mother, and even has the gall to shove his dick in your mouth! Now he has his hand on your thigh, no sexual tension radiates off of him. It's as if he has just simply placed his large hand on the gear shift. Anger starts to build up inside of you, the oily black substance becomes apparent to your insides. Before you know it you swat his hand away. 

"Don't touch me," you bark at him. "Don't you ever touch me like that again." He quickly turns to you, a sneer on his lips. You see his hand rise as he slaps your cheek with so much force your head smacks the window. You cry out in pain, cradling the throbbing area. Ren grabs your hair, making you stare straight into his furious, dark eyes. You shudder with fear as you feel your pussy clench. 

"You are mine," he spits out, "you signed the papers. You are my property and I can do whatever I want to. I can touch you where ever and whenever I so, please."  
"What," you say strongly, "you forced me to sign the papers!"

"I did not force you. Did I make you grab that pen? Did I make you with my own handwrite your signatures? No." He turns back to the windshield.

"You don't have to physically touch someone to get what you want," you retort back. Suddenly, his hand is on your throat squeezing you into submission. Your legs clench together.  
"See, look at you, you want me to don't you?" No answer. "You want me to choke you as I did before. You want me to slap you until tears stream down your face." The silent moan that forms on your lips is a good enough answer. " Touch yourself," Ren commands.

"Huh," you say breathlessly.

"You heard me. Touch yourself." You snake your hand down your stomach and rub the fabric between your legs. It feels warm, ready for your fingers. Ren sneaks a peek from the corner of his eye. "Yes, like that." You begin to grind your pussy against your hand with more force, the hard seam sliding on your clit. You let out a sharp moan as the pressure builds ever so slightly. Ren's hand moves from your neck to cupping your breast, kneading it harshly like dough. 

"Ah," you cry out bucking your hips, "yes." Ren pinches his fingers around the area of your nipple and you moan again. 

"Touch your clit," he demands. Nodding wordlessly you unbutton your pants and circle your warm fingers around the hood. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as the pleasurable sensation fills your senses. "Mhm," Ren sounds as his hand goes in your bra. You moan as his digits brush over your pointed nipple. "Greedy little slut," he says as a hard squeeze pushes on your breast. You rub faster, the friction makes slippery noises on your wet cunt. 

"Oh, yes," you say as you feel the orgasm rises inside you. There's a craving in your hole for your fingers and you try to fill it, but you feel your hand ripped out of your pants. Looking at Ren with angry eyes you shout, "Hey," but your mouth is stuffed with your own fingers. You can taste the tangy discharge on them. 

"Suck," is all Ren says and you do. He removes his hand from your arm and shoves it down your pants. His fingers glide up and down between your folds, slickening himself with your juices. He pinches your clit between his thumb and forefinger, your hips move wildly as a muffled squeal sounds from your lips. "You're so wet," he looks at you for a second, your fingers still in your mouth, and smiles. "I've been thinking about this tight cunt ever since I saw you. Wondering how it would feel on my fingers." He slips one inside you, craving to touch your spot. You take your hand out of your mouth and let out a deep moan, your toes curling in your shoes. He laughs, "I've only got one finger in, and you're already squirming." Ren keeps curling his finger inside you, each motion makes your brain go wild. You've never felt like this before. Sure, you've masturbated before, many times in fact, but it can never compare to the feel of Ren's finger inside of you. You feel your wall tighten around him. "God, you're so fucking tight. Just imagine if my cock was in you? It would split you in half."

"Yes, it would," you say breathlessly, "but I would love it." With that, he adds another finger. It stretches you a little, but the pain is soon overshadowed with pleasure. Ren's thumb starts to rub circles around your clit, it drives you mad. Your breathing is wild but you don't care, all you can think about is the overwhelming pressure of pleasure about to engulf you. "Mr.- Ah- Sir- Ah- Ren," you say staggered, "I'm going to-." 

"Cum. Cum for me," he says deeply. And with those words, you let loose. Euphoria racks over your body in waves, your stomach spasms, your fingers dig into Ren's arm as you cum all over his hand. Shouting, 

"Oh," over and over again, "yes!" He continues to finger you as you ride the wave of your climax but slows as you fall down. He pulls his fingers out and rubs them against your clit. The pads sending small fires throughout your body. You let go of his arm and he takes his hand out of your pants. Your cum shines on his fingers. 

"Open," Mr. Ren says and you listen too tired to protest as he shoves his digits in your mouth. "Suck," and you do. He releases a small growl while your tongue dances over the cylindrical ridges. Once your cum is all gone Ren takes his hand out of your mouth, a string of drool follows and he puts them in his own. You stare at him confused for a moment as his eyes are trained on the moving pavement, as he sucks your spit off his two fingers. 

The rest of the car ride is shrowded in silence, and you're thankful for it. You don't think you could handle another battle of words with Mr. Ren, especially since you're so bad at winning them. You turn off the highway and onto the main street, traveling along that road you see worn down houses. The once white homes are now covered in brown and dark green vines, damaging to the eyes. You see people sitting on the almost dry rotted porches smoking cigarettes with their children. They look at you with sad miserable eyes. You wonder what life would be like as the Untouchable class. Most people aren't willing to be in an Exchange Agreement with the lower classes, they find them too "savage". But you don't care. You're in the upper-middle-class, their lives have no effect on you. That's at least what your Dad told you.

On the front lawn of one of the houses, you see a toddler with curly blonde hair and a pacifier in their mouth. They have no shirt on, only a diaper to cover their private parts, and that's when you see it. It's quick, only a millisecond, a flash, but you see. On the face of the child is a black eye almost completely swollen shut. Your heart drops to your feet. You lean towards the window, pressing your nose to the glass, a shocked and sad look on your face. This child. This poor innocent child, abused. And just as you see it, they're gone. You strain your neck to see if you can get a better glimpse at them, but they disappear in the distance. You flop down back to your seat, you put your hand to your chest. 

"Why would someone do that to their child," you ask out loud. 

"What?" Ren glances at you confused.

"There was a child back there. It had a diaper on and a black eye, like someone, hit it." Ren sighs, straightening his back.

"Well, it's no concern of yours," he says coldly. You look at him gobsmacked. 

"How could you say that? It's a child!" 

"Every child needs to be taught what is right and what is wrong. It's not our place to say how they should be." He sounds so indifferent like he's talking about the weather. I stare into his eyes, trying to see if this is how he really feels, or what he's been trained to say. 

"Is that why you believe in the Exchange Program," you turn back in your seat and cross your arms. "Fucking politicians." You expect a hard slap or a tongue lashing from Ren but receive nothing. He just stares ahead as we turn onto a residential street. The houses become more presentable as we drive along. Each one starts to form into bigger grander houses than the ones before. You start to see recreational places beside people's houses. Finally, you go to a gated road and Ren types a password in on the electric keypad, and the steel bars open inward. Your mouth parts in awe. You've never seen such regal scenery. Beautiful bright green shrubbery lines the sides of the road almost making a pathway fit for a king. You suppose that's maybe what Ren should be compared to since he is one of the top politicians in the entire country. 

"Politicians should serve the people, not themselves," you hear your Dad say. You look over to the back seat and find him sitting in it. His bright red hair and piercing blue eyes bore into you, he looks like a dream. You smile at him and nod. "Especially ones like him." You turn to face Ren giving him a scowl. He doesn't seem to notice. "Burn Ren and everything he stands for to the ground. Make him regret ever being born." 

"You can do it, sweetheart, I know you can. Do you plan on being bad," you nod, " then make it ten times worse."

"I don't know if I can do that." Your voice sounds like a young girl's. 

Suddenly, you feel the car stop and you fling forward into the dash.

"Who are you talking to?" You blink, trying to shake your foggy mind away. 

"No one," you say dismissively, "I was just thinking out loud." Ren turns around looking at the back seats, your dad is no longer there. His eyes stare at you as they turn into slits. They try to gather the information that you are unwilling to spill. He smirks, bringing his arm up and grabs your chin, licking his lips. 

"You are a strange one, aren't you." It sounds more like a statement rather than a question, but it makes you tremble all the same. You don't know what to say as he removes his hand and gently steps on the gas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! It hadn't even been a full day when I logged on to see if anyone had read the first chapter and HOLY SHIT! So many people have read it in the span of time between posting and writing this second chapter. I honestly didn't think that anyone was going to read this if not for a long time because that's what happened with my other story that I posted here. I appreciate every single person who has left a Kudos and has clicked on this story! You have no idea how much this means to me!   
> THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!


	3. Fabulous Prison

The car moves up a long driveway, the pavement is immaculate. There's not a single crack or hole. You look up from the asphalt to see a double white garage door connected to an even more pristine white snow house. As you scan it your mind becomes a little dizzy at the size. It's magnificent, your lips form a grimace at the thought. Is this how rich people live? They have such extravagant homes while others live in shacks. The top has everything handed to them on a silver platter while the working classes barely scrape by. They get their pockets lined with the spoils. It's disgusting. You look at Ren from the corner of your eye, his strong arms steer the wheel with ease. You bite your lip as you see his forearms pull and loosen with each turn he makes. He doesn't appear like what you've imagined an elite to be. It stirs something within you.

"Do you like it," he questions. Staring at him for a moment you respond. 

"Like what?" Your eyes turn in to slits.

"Don't play dumb with me. Answer my question," he says with a hint of annoyance in his voice. 

"Your house," you ask rhetorically, "It's... nice." The word slides off your tongue like a curse and you cross your arms. 

"Is that so? My wife picked it out." You turn to him as your lips part. 

"Wife," you say softly. 

"Yes, wife." He turns his head to you, showing nothing but a stone face and raises an eyebrow as his home comes closer. Snapping your gaze away from him your body tenses and becomes a brick. How could you be so stupid not to realize that this man was married? He's a politician, of course, he's married, and you bet that she is the perfect woman to keep up appearances with. "Did you suspect me not to be wed," he asks with a tone of indifference. Wed? No one says wed. What a pretentious ass. Your fists clench as he asks, taking a sharp breath through your nose you plaster a fake smile on your face. 

"No, it's not that Mr. Ren. I just didn't realize that your wife had such wonderful taste in real estate," you say mockingly sweet. "You must be very lucky." The car comes closer to the garage, the door looks humungous up close and you feel dwarfed by it. You hear Ren's seatbelt unbuckle but refuse to move as the sudden gravity of the situation you're in forces itself upon your shoulders. You're really going to be living with a strange man you met only hours before. A man who made you cum with his own two fingers. A lump forms inside your throat. You imagine what he can do to you with his whole hand- his whole body in fact. He could do anything he wanted to you and you couldn't stop him, even if you wanted it. 

"Are you going to get out," Ren asks. You realize that you've been parked in this garage for a few minutes now, not moving. You inhale shaky air through your mouth, summoning all the courage within your soul, but your hand still trembles. You try your best to hide it as you press the red button to unbuckle. It hits the glass window with a 'clink'. You deny him the satisfaction of seeing your nervous, pink face. Instead, keeping your eyes trained to the ground as you grab your suitcase from the trunk, slamming the lid down with a bit too much force, it causes an echo throughout the concrete room. You hear the creak of a door and bring your head up to see Mr. Ren's wife. She's short, shorter than you by almost a full head with acrylic nails to match her decked out fingers. Her wedding ring is beautiful, a gold band with a white diamond on top. A pang of jealousy hits you, but you stuff it away into the pit of your stomach. You raise your eyebrows at her, but she ignores it. She puts all of her attention on the large man with broad shoulders, he looks like a giant compared to her. 

"Oh hello honey," she shrieks, "I'm so glad you're home, I've missed you so much!" Her dyed maroon hair bounces with each word. Subconsciously you touch your own, it's not nearly as voluminous. You quickly drop your hand like your hair is made of fire. Why are you comparing yourself to her? She's a full-grown adult shackled to a man by a deceivingly pretty ring of metal. If anything she should be jealous of you. Yes, you're also connected to this man, but at least you can leave after a year.

"Good evening Samantha," his voice is monotone. "Has Rose prepared lunch for us yet?" You see Samantha's face contort into a scowl only for a moment, but nevertheless, you still see. Maybe you could use this to your advantage?

"Yes, she just started. It should be ready in ten minutes or so." Samantha moves out of the way so Ren and you can get in, but puts a hand on your shoulder to stop you. Ren keeps walking, seeming not to notice that you are no longer beside him. "Hello sweetheart," she says sickenly nice, "how was the trip here? I hope you didn't cause any trouble for my husband." The bite marks on your shoulder throb. 

"No, no. Of course not," you reply with a fake smile. 

"Good. I read your papers, you know. I told Kylo that he was making a mistake thinking of exchanging our lovely, well behaved Rey, for someone of your," she pauses for a second, scanning your body up and down, "background." 

"Background," you question offendedly.  
"It's not every day that we get to see a daughter of a fellow politician, a well, former politician." Samantha puts her hand to her chest, "God rest his soul." You clench your jaw at those words, your hands ball up in fists. She looks at you, smiling to herself, proud of the damage she's done. "Now," she says while clasping her hands together, "I'll show you to your room."

She leads you through a mudroom with wicker baskets lining the cream walls. A small light fixture hangs overhead, emitting a soft yellow glow. As you enter the kitchen, your mouth drops open. Granite countertops are everywhere, coffee brown cabinets screwed above them. This area is the size of a restaurant kitchen, though it is much more luxurious. A woman in a tan suit jacket and black hair leans over a sink, cleaning something. Samantha clears her throat and Rose abruptly turns around, dropping a dish.

"Oh, hello ma'am," she says while awkwardly bowing, "good afternoon." Samantha walks over to Rose, scrutinizing her as she did with you. But her look is much different than before. Her hands clasp behind her back as her heels click on the tile floor, each 'click' calculating and intimidating. Rose squirms uncomfortably under her gaze as you notice how well dressed she is, almost like she's heading to a business meeting. You hope you don't have to dress like that. Samantha's eyes move from her to the dish she had been scrubbing. She examines it, turning the plate back and forth and finally sets it down. 

"You missed a spot," is all she says as her heels spin and motions you to follow her. Walking down a hallway with a lush, green rug you clench and unclench your hands, nails digging in your palms. The sharp pain allows you to focus on something other than the impending doom of what is now your life. Then, Samantha makes a sharp left turn as your legs struggle to keep up with her brisk pace. She hurries up the dark red-carpeted stairs, trailing behind her you trip on a step, grabbing the oak wood banister in the process. Turning around she scoffs as she continues up the stairs. Finally, you reach a dark corridor, the only light glowing through the window. Particles of dust flow through the rays of sunlight as the stained wooden doors shine with a coat of gloss. You stay put at the entrance, feet have turned to lead. The lump that was in your throat forms again as Samantha twists a silver doorknob. You've never seen a doorknob look so magnificent- so regal. "Come on," she says impatiently. You drag your shoes along the fluffy carpet as your suitcase rolls behind you, leaving lighter colored lines. Peering into the doorway you see a large room, way larger than your old one. Samantha steps in and you follow, the wheels on your luggage create a dull sound on the hardwood floor. "Set your belongings over there," she commands pointing to a closet with a white sliding door. "I trust that you know how a bedroom works." 

"Yes," you say while looking around the ceiling. "Yes, ma'am I do." Her arms are crossed over her chest as she smiles, proud that she has gotten you to use formalities. Samantha walks to the hallway but stops at the door frame. 

"Here at this home, we have rules. Rules must be obeyed and followed without question. Do you understand?" 

"Yes," you reply while nodding. 

"You are to address me as madam, ma'am, or Mrs. Ren. With Ren, it is either sir or Mr. Ren, never his first name or mine. You are only to leave this room for your lessons, meals, errands, and chores unless otherwise specified. You are allowed one hour of free time at three o'clock each day. You are allowed to use the library, study, common room, and gardens as you wish." Samantha motions to the left, "The west wing is off-limits." She turns around dropping her arm in the process. "Any of those privileges can be taken away at any time and you will be subject to punishment of mine or Ren's choosing." 

"Yes, madam," you say with a scowl. It's not like you even know his first name.

"Lights out is at 10 p.m. you are not permitted to leave past that time. Wake up is at seven, breakfast is served at eight, lunch at noon, and dinner at five. But for today you will be eating in your room until a proper initiation has been made." You raise an eyebrow at her quizzically. 

"Initiation," you question. 

"Yes, that will be held in three days. It will be a large party in your honor and you must attend." As you hear those words you can't help but feel they're not true. That's too ridiculous. A party for you? This is some sort of sick game. "Do you understand?" You grind your teeth together, biting back all the nasty things you want to say to her, but you're not about the get punished after being here only for fifteen minutes. 

"Yes, madam," is all you manage to say. With those final words, she leaves, slamming the door shut behind her. You hear the jingle of keys and the rattle of a lock closing. You rush to the door twisting and turning at the knob. Banging with the palm of your hand on the door you shout, "Hey! Hey! Don't lock me in here!" You wrack your brain trying to think of a reason to persuade her not to lock the door. "What if- What if I need to use the bathroom? I don't think you want me to pee on your floor!" Yeah, that's a good reason. 

"There is a washroom connected to your room, you idiot." The final turn of key traps you in your fabulous prison. 

It had been hours from when Samantha had left you in here. The only face you saw was Rose and she wasn't much for talking. She had brought your lunch setting it on a spruce table in the middle of the room. You had unpacked your suitcase, hanging up all your outfits in the walk-in closet. Bedsheets were laying on top of your twin size mattress a pile of neatly folded blue fabric. You had to fight with the fitted sheet, trying to find which end was which. Eventually, it was made as you plopped on the small bed. A slight sheen of sweat covers your limbs. 

"Bedsheets are evil," you say trying to catch your breath. 

"Are they worse than politicians," asks a smooth voice. Your once sweaty limbs freeze in place. Why is he here?

"I don't know. I've met some pretty mean ones." You hear his shoes thump on the floor, causing your heart to race. 

"Answering with sass? I thought you had learned your lesson already?" You push yourself upright gazing at Ren. Your breath gets cut short as you see his hair. It's so elegant, so fluffy, so dark compared to his pale face. Your cheeks grow hot as he continues his approach. 

"You'll soon come to realize that I am not one to listen to things I've been taught." Ren's plush lips smirk at you as he steps closer. Each thud causes a throb to your core. "That's why you wanted me in the first place, sir," Pausing for a second you tilt your head, "right?" You slide over to the edge of the bed and spread your legs apart. Ren's thudding footsteps stop and his smirk falls. You can't tell if he wants to bend you over and fuck you or hurt you for your defiance. Or maybe it's both. Either answer excites you, sending jolts of arousal through your stomach. Suddenly, your question is answered as he grabs your hair, pulling you across the room. He slams your face into the wall. Letting out a small wince you grab his fingers and try to pry them from your strands. "Don't touch me," you spit out at him. Ren's free hand yanks your arm down, pinning it to your back. "Let go of me," you try to wiggle from his grasp. 

"Do you think that you can act like that in front of me and get away with it," his voice sounds deep, laced with his growing desire. Ren brings your hand up pinning it on the wall. "Don't move," he lets go of your hair and you shove him off you. He barely budges as you slip from his grasp, but your victory is short-lived as he tackles you to the ground. Your nose smacks on the floor as he scrambles to flip you over. His eyes are crazy and his normally blank face is filled with animalistic lust. You bring your knees up knocking him off of you, struggling to crawl away as drops of blood fall from your nostrils. This time he grabs your foot pulling you across the floor as your nails scrape it. You try to scream as you feel his hand clamp over your mouth and all that comes out is a muffled noise. Ren flips you over again, this time sitting on your legs as he begins to choke you. He doesn't cut off your air, somehow knowing not to in his rage as he crashes his mouth onto yours. You feel your teeth clack together as you let out an involuntary moan. His tongue plunges in your mouth and you don't stop him. Some sick twisted part of you wants to be hurt like this. To be thrown around and chased by him like your his prey. It makes your cunt tingle with excitement. Ren releases his lips from yours letting you catch a breath as his hands let go of your throat. Abruptly his head dives into your neck, his lips bite and suck every inch of skin you have as another moan surfaces from you. Your fingers run through his hair, wanting to feel every soft strand of it. 

"Yes," you say softly, "yes more." You feel him smile for a second as his hands move to your breasts, strongly rubbing them in circles. Your back arches trying to get as much of him as possible when you feel his hard cock on your leg. You remove your hands from his hair and bring them down to him, sliding them up and down against his length. Ren shudders into your neck as he thrusts into your hand. "Mmm," you sound as another wave of arousal washes over you. "Please sir," you say without thinking, "please can I feel your cock." He hovers above your neck. 

"Hmm... Sir. I like to hear that word come from your filthy mouth. Say it again," he demands. 

"Sir," you say breathlessly. His head moves right above your own as he stares into your eyes. They're still crazy, still filled with so much desire. He drags his tongue along your jawline, you feel the hot air coming out of his nose.

"Sir what," Ren says chuckling darkly. 

"Sir, please can I feel your cock? Sir, I need to touch it so badly. I want to make you cum." He lets out a deep growl, shooting up and sliding down his pants. His dick springs free as his underwear uncovers it. You bite your lip as you stare at him. You feel your pussy ache to be filled up with his size, but you know you can't have that. Ren places himself in your hand as you begin to pump his cock. He sighs as you get a bit of his pre-cum to slicken the head. 

"Do you know how badly I want that disgusting little pussy of yours? Do you know how badly I want to fill you up with my cock as you beg for more?" You feel your face grow hotter and hotter. 

"I can't have you inside me," you say softly as you continue to milk his cock. Ren's eyes turn soft for a second, but it's soon overshadowed by a wave of pleasure.

"You're mine. If I want to fuck you I will and you can't stop me." You don't deny it, instead, you turn your hot face away from him letting his kisses bombard your tender neck. His thrusting becomes rougher with every small tightening of your hand. 

"How can you still be this horny even after you shoved your dick down my throat," you ask teasingly. He keeps grunting into you. 

"I'll never be satisfied until I tear you apart. Until I mark every part of you as my own." He pumps faster and faster into your hand, letting out a deep-chested moan. "Until I fill every one of your slutty holes with my hard fucking cock." Ren's words cause you to shiver with the same amount of desire as him. "Fuck, I'm going to cum," is all he says as you feel thick, hot liquid shoot on your wrist and arm. You keep stroking him as he rides his wave of orgasm, making sure to get every drop of his seamen out. Feeling his hips tremble above you he collapses, making an audible 'oof'. The pressure of his weight reduces the amount of air in your lungs, causing you to gasp, but he still doesn't move. You bring your free arm up, trying to push him off.

"If you lay on me any longer you're going to crush every hole of my body," you say lightly, mocking him of his words before. You sit there in silence not knowing what to say after that, not wanting to test the limits of his patience. Finally, he moves off of you, stuffing his softening erection in his pants. It's like the weight of the world has been lifted off your torso. You bring your knees up cradling them to your chest as you rest your chin on them. Suddenly, you feel a soft hand caress your cheek. The same cheek that was just slammed into a wall by a man high on sex. You suppose that both match one another in their redness. you turn to look at Ren, but he quickly moves his hand away. Acting as if nothing just happened. He smooths his wild hair back as he clears his throat. 

"Put a cold washcloth on your face and neck. It should reduce the swelling." His voice sounds as if he is in a work environment. It causes a small prickle in your heart. You shake your head, trying to get rid of the sensation. "And I'll have Rose bring you some makeup to cover whatever marks that are left behind." 

"You know this normally wouldn't be a problem for girls my age. Having to deal with a forty-year-old man treat me this way." Ren scoffs at you, seemingly offended by your words.

"Is that how old you think I am," he asks.

"Was I close?" 

"No, you're off by many years." 

"Well, then how old are you?" 

"Curiosity killed the cat," he replies simply. 

"But satisfaction brought it back," you retort internally cringing. He turns to the floor and releases a chuckle devoid of humor. 

"We'll see," Ren says as his shoes thud their way out of your room.


	4. Twisted Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of your latest session with Ren has you thinking about some harmful and unethical thoughts...
> 
> Trigger Warning: Anxiety/ Panic Attack

You stare at yourself in the crystal mirror gently holding the chilly cloth to your neck. How could you have let him do this to you? He's a full-grown adult having sex with a child. There has to be something you can do. Someone to tell about this even with the legality of the contract. Even with that, a fraction of you wants to keep it secret. A dark, longing, toxic void of a secret that can only be filled with pleasure- pleasure from him. The part of you that craves his touch no matter what it is. You know this is wrong, you cannot consent as a minor, but you don't want it to stop. Eight-teen is only a year away and what does one year in age do? You're still the same person when you're older. You don't suddenly change as a human being when another year of your life is added. So, what is the problem that this is happening? 

  
You throw the cloth down on the porcelain sink, disgusted at yourself. How could you think like this? It's not been a full day and this man has already twisted your mind as much as your mom. With her you hated it, but with him, it gives highs. There is something so intoxicating with this man. Like you're an alcoholic struggling with your disease and Ren's the drink that will keep feeding it. You need to be rid of this disease; be rid of this man and his manipulative ways. 

  
Has he manipulated you? No.

  
You want him.

  
Your thoughts during the time together are your own. Ren can't control what you think. You wanted him as much as he wanted you. Right?

  
The inner-conflict is interrupted by the unlocking of a handle. You quickly shut the bathroom door so whoever it is doesn't see the aftermath of you and Ren's session.

  
"Who is it," you ask through the wood. 

  
"It's Rose. I'm just here to drop off some cosmetics per request of the Master." 

  
"Master?" It comes out as a whisper.

  
"I'll just set them here on the table," she says.

  
"Thanks." You pause for a moment debating on what to say next. "Um, hey Rose."

  
"Yes?"

  
"Do you happen to know why he's bringing me makeup?" You press your fingers to the door, bracing yourself on what her possible answer is.

  
"I don't ask questions on why the Master orders things. It's not my concern, but if I were you I'd use peach color corrector." You grimace at her response. She knows. Rose's steps begin again as they fade away when the door shuts and locks. 

  
The golden sun gradually descends in the sky as you're trapped in the room. You've exhausted every option of entertainment, leaving you only to stare aimlessly out the window. The grass has seemingly grown a few centimeters since you've started watching. How exciting. Looking over to the bushes something catches your eye. A man with a blue shirt and cargo shorts holding garden sheers, trimming. You study the way he holds them. He appears strong and has sturdiness in his grip. They're not as large as Rens. The tendons in his hands' ripple with each cut as the back of his olive neck glistens with sweat from his labor. Almost as if he's sensed your staring he turns around and gives a friendly grin. Instinctively you bounce back from your position, letting out a shocked grunt when you hit the wall. You put a fist to your chest and steady your racing heart. 

  
"Oh God," you say as your embarrassment starts to creep up your throat. Waiting for a few more seconds, you turn around the corner. Checking to see if he has gone back to work, but he's not there. Pulling your full body around you move your head, trying to get a better view of the area. 

  
"Hey," you hear someone shout from below the window. As you look down the man waves, showing his bright teeth. You smile awkwardly as your mouth refuses to move from shame and briskly walk to your bed. Flopping on it and covering your face with your palms as you hear his muffled voice. Refusing to answer, not wanting to subject yourself to any more torture.

  
"Oh. My. Fucking God." Rolling over you release a groan. "Why?" You question the empty environment. Taking your hands off your skin you put them out as your eyebrows shoot to the ceiling. "You know what? It isn't that big of a deal. I'll probably never see him in the house so I'll just stay away from the hedges." You smile to yourself having concocted a brilliant plan. "See, nothing to worry about." As soon as those words leave your mouth you hear a polite knock on the door. It's definitely not Ren, as he would just barge in with no regard for your comfort. Eyes growing wide you spring up from the mattress, not knowing what to say. 

  
"Hello? I know you're in there." You don't answer. "I literally just saw you staring, so you have to still be in there. Well, unless you've... like... jumped out the window." Your cheeks are so scorching it's painful. 

  
"Thanks for the idea," you quip back. 

  
"Ah-ha! So, you are alive! I knew it!" The man replies triumphantly. "Um, are you going to let me in?"

  
"No," you respond curtly.

  
"Why?"

  
"For two reasons. One: I don't want to and two: I can't." You cross your arms.

  
"Those are practically the same reasons," he says incredulously.

  
"No, they're not."

  
"Yes, they are."

  
"No," you say pointedly, "they are not." You hear the man scoff. You can almost see the expression. The door nob begins to jiggle. "Yeah, it's locked dumbass." 

  
"It's locked from the outside which means there's a lock on the inside."

  
"So," you ask rhetorically.

  
"You can unlock it from your end." Your jaw and arms drop as the sudden realization hits you. 

  
"Oh," is all you manage to mumble as you tread to the door. Grabbing the small numb on the knob you turn and swing it open. Revealing a bigger version of the same person you saw. His forearm leaning on the door frame casually with a slight smirk on his face.

  
"Who's the dumbass now," he mocks. 

  
"Still you," and you slam the door in his face, but he stops it with his foot as you trot away. 

  
"Aren't you sweet." You turn around to face him for a moment, crossing your hands on your breast.

  
"Why, thank you. You're too kind," sarcasm laced in every syllable.

  
"What's your name?"

  
"It's Cleopatra, Egyptian Queen of the Nile." You spin around again, not knowing where to walk.

  
"Well, Your Highness, Cleo, if I may call you that, it is nice to meet you." You turn back as he does an overzealous bow. "My name is Poe Dameron, King of the Bushes." You can't help but giggle as you form a deep curtsey. 

  
"It is nice to meet you too, Your Royal Hedgey-ness." Your smile is as bright as the stars.

  
"If I may ask Cleo, how long have you been here?"

  
"Not that long. Only a few hours." Poe's smile drops for a nanosecond when his pupils meet your neck but quickly puts it back.

  
"I can see you and your lovers have certainly loved it." You bashfully put your pads on the hickies Ren left. Your instincts tell you to end this conversation before you get in trouble with him or Samantha. You seriously do not want to meet any "punishments" or "lessons" from them, but this is the happiest and most carefree you have been in a very, very long time.

  
"Oh, these old things? They're just from a past lover. He's out of the picture if you know what I mean." You draw a line on your neck with your pointer finger. Poe chuckles. They're so much different than Rens. With his, they are devoid of any emotion- devoid of any lightheartedness. But with Poe, he's so filled with life, so filled with joy. It makes you grin wider and feel as if it'll split your cheeks in two.

  
"Your Highness, I better get out of your hair, but I would like to speak with you again. If you would permit me so." You pretend to think about it, jutting your hip out and stroking your chin.

  
"I think I could permit it. Let's say about three o'clock tomorrow." 

  
"Tomorrow? I'm not going to be here tomorrow." Shrugging your shoulders playfully you say, 

  
"Well, it is the only time I am available in my very tight schedule."

  
"I'll try to make it then." Poe stands there, acting as if he's expecting something. 

  
"What," you ask, "go on then. Finish the bushes Your Hedgey-ness." You move your hand to the door and he smiles at you gently grabbing it. Standing there an icey-hotness fills your limbs as he slowly brings your knuckles to his feather lips. Placing a light kiss he drops it and walks away. Locking the door in the process. You bring the hand up to your eyes, this was the same hand you used to just furiously jerk off your "Master". Yet, Poe kissed it. The oily black rage begins to form again. How could your hand commit such vile acts? And then let Poe's innocent mouth touch them. Stomping off to the washroom you turn on the faucet.

  
"Dirty, disgusting hands." You scrub vigorously. "Filthy, filthy, atrocious hands." Nails scrape into your palm, leaving burning red marks in its wake. You have to clean the limbs. You have to or else everyone will know what they did- how disgusting- vile- hideous these hands are. The friction of your nails will surely wash it away. Right-? Right-? Right! The pain becomes overwhelming as you keep chanting this. "Go away! Wash away! Why won't you go away," you yell at your blistering palms. "Go away! Go away!" Your chest heaves up and down rapidly. "Go away!" You let one final scream out, haphazardly turning off the water as you grab the baby blue towel. Extra water droplets fall from your face and on to it, soiling the fabric. You look in the mirror. When did you start crying? "Weak! Weak!" You shriek at the reflection. Putting your fists to your face, you aggressively wipe away the tears. Staring back you force yourself to smile as red paint streaks your cheeks. You hear yourself gasp for breath as you peer down, seeing you've scrubbed your palms beneath the flesh. Blood oozes out from each crevasse, still not washing away your actions. Turning the water back on you desperately rinse the blood, whimpering in the process. "What did I do to deserve this?" The weight of your words shoves you down to the tile floor, staring at the red liquid seeping down your wrists. "Why," you say wheezing. Air can't fill your lungs enough. Your blood is moving too fast- Your chest is moving too fast- Your mind is moving too fast- The world is moving too fast. Ren is moving too fast. Your vision becomes sparks of lightning as you fall back. Head bouncing off the floor with a crack.

  
Groaning you try to move, but something stops you. You open your eyes, seeing your legs tied to bedposts. Beginning to kick you try to set yourself free, bringing your arms down to help but your hands are bandaged and tied together at the wrists. You sit up abruptly, nearly falling back down from the insane heartbeat in your head. 

  
"Stay still." Your eyes snap to the direction of the voice. It's Ren. He's sitting on a stool in the corner with his elbow on his knees, watching you.

  
"Why am I tied up?" His face shows no emotion.

  
"You were hurting yourself," he says simply. 

  
"What," you reply sharply.

  
"You were on the bathroom floor with blood all over you." Did he take the time to bandage you? Of course, he doesn't want his property damaged. 

  
"Untie me," you demand as you wriggle. 

  
"No." Huffing you ask,

  
"And why might that be?"

  
"You need time to heal." You snort.

  
"I don't need to be tied up to do that," you spit out.

  
"Clearly you do, and besides, I quite like you this way." A pang of warmth goes through your stomach. You tilt your head back and laugh, trying to get that feeling to leave.

  
"Of course you would! I'm a helpless little girl ready for you to prey on." Ren stands and stalks towards you. His broad figure excites.

  
"Is that what you want?" You refuse to answer. "It's a yes then, isn't it." A rising desire is in his voice.

  
"Saying nothing does not mean yes." He's getting close enough to smell his musk. You take a deep breath in.

  
"Then say no." You try to, you really do, but the word cannot form in your vocal box. It's stuck in the lump that has made itself home in your throat. One final thump and he is towering over you, scanning your body. You squirm underneath his gaze, feeling as if all your flaws are being spotted. Ren puts a hand on your neck, lightly circling each mark. A 'bump' echoes in your skull and it causes you to fall back down on the mattress. You used your enclosed fists to soothe your head but they're pried away. "Do you want something for the pain?" His question surprises you. How could the man that just a few hours earlier threw you against a wall be asking you something for your pain? You stare him skeptically, trying to see what Ren means, but finding nothing. 

  
"Yes," you say cautiously and he walks out the room. "Hey!" Shouting at him only causes more throbbing. His thuds fade away as you lay there, still tied to the bed - still helpless. You try to slip your legs out of the ropes but Ren's knots are just too damn tight. "Shit," you hiss as your toe gets caught in the gap between your ankle and thread. "He better be getting me some ibuprofen or acetaminophen, or else..." Trailing off you hear him as he opens the door with a bottle of pills, an ice pack, and a glass of water. Ren says nothing as he sits them on the stool. "It'd be better for you to give them to me now. I'm not going anywhere." He releases what almost sounds like a laugh. 

  
"I'll give it to you after."

  
"After," you exclaim, "after what?" 

  
"Are you dense or just that stupid," he asks rhetorically.

  
"Excuse me!" 

  
"I'm going to fuck you." His words shock you into silence.

  
"Sir, I've never- you know- done that before," you say shyly.

  
"You can say the word. You're a big girl." You refuse to say it out loud, it'll only confirm what he's about to do. 

  
"I don't want you to," you clear your throat, " have the sexy times with me." Ren stops for a moment, slightly taken aback by your statement. "I want you to do other things." You feel your core soften. He gives a slight smirk as he approaches you once more. 

  
"What do you want me to do?" An erection shows prominently through his trousers. Your mouth waters.

  
"I... Umm... I want you to touch me." He palms himself.

  
"Where do you want me to touch you?" Ren's voice sounds like smooth silk causing you to wilt.

  
"My... breasts." He puts a leg over the top of your stomach, straddling you. The sheer sight of him above makes your breath hitch. He rolls back onto his heels slowly snaking his digits up and down your curves. Relishing in your vulnerability. You hate to admit this, but you love it too. Being helpless at the hands of a man who could do so many terrible things to you. It makes you want him even more. Ren lifts your shirt up exposing your skin. The only sign of excitement is a swallow before he begins ravishing your tits. Kneading them like dough, molding them into a perfect feeling of pleasure. It causes you to let out a soft moan. He leans over your chest, barely touching it with his as he unhooks your bra. The cool air causes your nipples to stiffen even more. "I want you to suck me." Ren stops, eyeing while a devilish smirk dances on his lips.

  
"Did you order me to do something little girl?" Your eyebrows knot in confusion.

  
"I thought..."

  
"You thought wrong exchange-e." He leans closer, your noses slightly touching. His breath like fire against your tender lips. "You are never allowed to order me. I am your Master." You swallow afraid he might hurt you worse.

  
"I'm- I'm sorry."

  
"Aww, slave, are you frightened of me?" The trembling of your breath is answering enough. Without any hesitation, he grabs your neck squeezing it. "You should be," he growls, "But the look in your eyes says otherwise." His word should scare you into submission, but they don't-- They only ignite the burning desire within you. Ren wastes no time, crashing his lips to yours. It makes your headache worsen, but the heartbeat in your core overpowers. His digits slither their way down to the button of your pants. You buck your hips, seeking to feel their ridges inside your pussy. He doesn't give you the satisfaction, only rubbing on the seam between your legs. Ren takes his tongue out of your mouth, a trail of spit connecting you both. You catch your breath. "You lament that you don't want to be fucked, but I know better. You crave to be filled by me. You crave pain. You need me to hurt you, or else you'll die." He rubs harder and you moan moving your tied hands over your chest. "No, no you can't hide from this. You're mine now. Mine to do anything I want with, to touch anywhere I want." Ren pushes your arm above your head. "Now let's see just how much you need me." He unbuttons your pants and rips them down your legs. Your underwear is soaked with all the juices he's created. He takes a sharp breath in. "Fuck." He slides your panties down and positions his head between your thighs. Ren lifts your calves and places them on his shoulders. In seconds his face dives into your cunt, licking and sucking every fold. Your limbs twitch with the bolts of pleasure. 

  
"Yes," you moan breathlessly. Ren smiles as his tongue flicks your clit causing you to clench. "Oh God, yes!" Your body writhes in pleasure. His tongue moves down to your entrance darting in and around. The pressure builds up inside you, but you still long to be filled with him, feeling as if something is missing. "Please, Ren please can I have you inside of me?" He nips at your skin in response, making you squeal. "Please, please, I need you- I need it." He stops sucking.

  
"What is my name?" You pant confusedly. He bites your thigh intensely and you yelp. "What. Is. My. Name?" He goes back to chomping. 

  
"It's Mr. Ren," he bites again, "Uh- Sir?" Bite. "Ow, umm... Sir?" This time he slaps your pussy. "Master," you scream out. He rubs your cunt gently and coos.   
"That's right." Ren slides two fingers inside you. "And what does that make you?" He curls it.

  
"Your slave." He adds another.

  
"Yes, you're my slave." He moves his fingers faster and faster. "You're my fucking slave. You're just another hole for me to tear apart." The pressure he's creating grows stronger as he begins to circle your clit with the pads of his other hand. Ren rubs rougher and his fingers curl inside of you causing you to almost burst, but he slows. "You have to ask permission to cum." Wasting no time you say, 

  
"Please, Master, please can I cum on your fingers." His pace quickens again. 

  
"You're going to have to do better than that." 

  
"Oh, God. Master, please! Your slave needs to cum for you!" The pressure is immense, you're a dam about to burst for him.

  
"Good girl. Cum for your Master." You need no more approval as your body goes into straight ecstasy. Releasing deep and guttural moans of pure pleasure. Ren begins to stall as you come down from your climax, making sure to prolong it as much as possible. He takes his digits out and begins to suck off your juices. Pulling them out he leans and commands you to open and you do. Licking and lapping up your wetness and his spit. "You look so perfect like this." His tone sounds like he's admiring a beautiful work of art in a museum. Perhaps you are. The knots and ropes representing your bondage to him and that stupid contract. But also maybe something else. Maybe it could be the forced role that you have to play for him. Shackled to the promise you made to yourself and your father. Maybe- just maybe- you were bound to meet him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, SORRY for not updating in like a month. I kinda got into my head and was like "there's no way I could write a story like this. I have to be perfect since more people are reading than I'm used to. How can I continue this story and actually make it good?" I was just basically going crazy so I kind abandon it and started working on something else. BUT thanks to a commenter I am finally back into the groove of things and shall make another update real soon!


	5. Don't Leave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Men you care for always seem to leave.   
> Sorry, no smut, just emotions.

Ren gives you medicine like you’re a sick puppy. You guess in his eyes you are. Bought and traded like a piece of livestock. Just another animal for him to slaughter and eat. But the tenderness in Ren’s eyes as he lifts the glass to your lips makes you feel cherished. Not a slab of meat. 

  
“When will you untie me,” you ask him after swallowing. 

  
“You’re still going on about that?”

  
“Duh. As long as I’m tied up I’ll stay asking.”

  
“Keep asking then,” he replies with a tone of indifference. You huff, rolling your eyes.

  
“Seriously, I will eventually need to use the toilet.” That seems like a very practical reason to be let loose. 

  
“Do you need to use it now?”

  
“Now that I think about it, yes.” Ren sits the glass on the hardwood floor and heads down to the bottom of the frame, undoing your ankles. With no hesitation you spring off the bed and sprint to the washroom, locking the door. His footsteps radiate silent intimidation as he stops before the oak slab. He knocks lightly. The sound is uncanny. You quickly look around for something to barricade the door. Finding only the small tin trashcan and placing it at the frame. Your face scrunches into a grimace. “Occupied.”

  
“Open the door,” Ren booms. 

  
“Sorry, someone is in here.”

  
“I’ll break it down.”

  
“What is wrong with you,” you shout at him. “This is your house! You will mess it up, and besides, I need some privacy.”

  
“How do I know you will not hurt yourself?” His words cause you to step back. 

  
“Oh, right, you don’t want your new object broke,” you reply sassy.

  
“Fine. I’ll leave you then.” Ren goes to walk away, but you don’t want him to leave. You shake that thought out of your mind. You only need him to get these ropes off.

  
“Wait! I need you to untie me or I will cut myself loose, and I’m sure you don’t want me to have scissors.

”   
“I don’t care,” he says defensively and leaves. You stand there blinking rapidly with your mouth agape. 

  
“He said that he was worried about me hurting me and then leaves,” you talk to yourself. You ‘tsk’ and slide to the toilet. As you stare at the swirling water going down the pipes, you can’t help but feel the same way. Like you’re being forced to go down a crapshoot of nothing but shit, and he doesn’t even give you the dignity for it to be your own. You try to wash your hands, remembering they’re knotted and bandaged. It’s just another representation of him. Opening the medicine cabinet, you search for scissors, finding only a first-aid kit that has already been open. You riffle through it finding the two connected blades and position it awkwardly between your hands and cut. The ropes descend to the tiled floor and you soothe your irritated wrists, then undo the knots at your feet. Finally free, you decide not to remove your coverings and only wash your fingers. Examining them, you drop your gaze. You can’t believe you did this to yourself. You’ve done nothing like this before. You’ve never, ever made yourself bleed on purpose. Why would that happen? The oil is back, and it is burning. 

  
It’s because of Ren, your “Master”. 

  
You turn your head angrily at the door and swivel the knob, grabbing it thoroughly. What can you do about this? How can you change anything about your contract? You signed it, used your hand to do it. Maybe you could get Poe to do something? You’ve met him only a few hours ago, so why would you ask him? He would surely never help you. He’d just tell Samantha or Ren immediately. You’re sure they would reward him greatly. You fall on the floor holding your face with bleeding palms. There’s no one. You have no one to talk to. No one to confide in. No one to trust. You’re alone. All alone. Like you’ve always been since it killed your Dad.

  
Your eyes water. You’re so alone. You have no one. No one— No one. You let out a sob when you feel someone’s fist on your shoulder. You lookup. 

  
“Dad?” He stands there smiling down at you sympathetically. Standing, you encase his body in a deep hug. 

  
“You’re not alone, sweetheart. You’ve never been.”

  
“But you’re gone. I have no mother anymore. No friends. Just nothing.” 

  
“Sometimes, we have to lose everything to know what’s most important,” he says wistfully. A slight twinge of anger ignites itself.

“But it’s what you find important. I’m not affected by these politicians and their decisions.”

  
“Honey, you are the victim of their policies. You were just exchanged this morning because of the decisions they’ve made.” The impact of his words causes you to let go.

  
“Don’t act like you weren’t a vote on these matters.” Your father steps back. 

  
“How dare you? I did what would have got me to win. That’s why you have the privilege to not be affected by these laws,” he retorts.

  
“Privilege? I don’t have privilege! I’m someone’s fucking slave,” you scream out as tears fall. 

  
“You say that now because you’re feeling what others do.” His words rattle you to the bone. Are you that sheltered? If your life wasn’t hard enough, your Dad makes it worse. “That’s why you need to destroy him. Destroy everything Ren and President Snoke has worked for.” Spit flies out of his mouth. “Make them feel your pain tenfold.” You slump to your knees, gazing at the wood and pathetically ask,

  
“I’m just one girl.” 

  
“Where there is one of you, there are thousands.” Your teary eyes go up to him. “Rise and start the revolution. If you don’t start it- no one will.” 

  
The words of your Father resonate within as you eat your dinner. You hate to admit it, but there are some agreeable things about being here. The food, for example, it’s extraordinary. Mother’s cooking could never compare to the tenderness of Rose’s lemon- pepper chicken. And your room. Even though it is your prison, it is beautiful with the lights dimmed. It’s almost as if you’re a princess locked in your tower by an evil captor, waiting for your knight in shining armor.

  
“Yeah, like that will ever happen,” you tell yourself. This isn’t a fairy tale where someone will rescue you from imprisonment. It’s up to you- and only you- to free yourself.   
Rose knocks on the door as you set your fork down with a ‘clink’. She puts the silver lid over the plate and walks away, but you stop her. 

  
“Rose, did you always want to be a maid?” She jerks her arm away from the question. “I mean no offense, but didn’t you dream work for yourself? As in being your boss.” Rose pauses, debating whether to answer.

  
“I don’t think I ever saw life for me to not be serving under someone.” With those words, she leaves. 

  
As you snuggle under the covers of your bed you try to dream of a place far away from here. A place where you have a lucky family. A Mother who loves you, a Dad who isn’t dead- dead. How can you use such a word to describe a man who still lives in your mind? He lives there rent-free in your memories. You want to evict him so you have nothing tethering you to your Mom, but you can’t. Your father has taken every bit of recollection of happiness and has replaced it with death. Before you know it you’re sound asleep within your mind. Thoughts of him disappear and replaced with loss.

  
You stand on the sidewalk watching Dad make his way to the black Mercedes. It feels as if you’re underwater as he reaches for the handle. Everything becoming slow motion as you scream for him to stop, knowing what is about to come. Closing your eyes, you turn away when you’re sifted back by the force of the explosion. Your head hits the concrete as your ears ring. Someone picks you up and you open your eyes, seeing the scraps of the car all over. You scream, but there’s no sound as you rock back and forth. Turning your head away from the murder, you see a man walk away with a remote in his hand. You squint, trying to make out the figure in the distance when your face turned away and you’re left staring at the empty room. Sitting up, you try to calm your heart rate. It feels as if it’s skipping a beat every so often and you’re left gasping for breath. 

  
A slight tap sounds on the window and you stare, wondering if you’re mistaken, but a small pebble hits the glass again. You creep over to the noise and look out, seeing Poe waving. Looking down at him confused, you undo the latch and push up. 

  
“Hey,” he half yells.

  
“What are you doing here,” you whisper heavily.

  
“I couldn’t see her Royal Highness tomorrow, so I came tonight.”

  
“What the Hell Poe? What time is it?” He looks at his watch and says,

  
“1:30 am.” You shake your head.

  
“How do you expect to get up here?”

  
“Oh, is that an invitation? Well, since you asked, I happen to see a ladder on the ground next to me.” He pauses. “I wonder how that got there?”

  
“You’re ridiculous. Do you know that? Utterly ridiculous,” you say exasperatedly as you move with your hand to come up. Poe places the ladder gently on the wall and climbs up. He uses his arm to hoist his feet through the window and they land with a thump. You ‘shh’ him. “Now, what do you want to do?”

  
“I’d first like to start with knowing your name.” You cross your arms. 

  
“I already told you my name.”

  
“No, I mean your proper one,” he says chuckling. Your lips form in a tight line before you tell him. “See? That wasn’t so hard. It’s nice to meet you. I mean, really, meet you.” Poe extends his hand politely. 

  
“Finally, a boy with manners,” you say failing dignity. 

  
“I know.” You’re back to smiling again. Suddenly, he spots your bandaged hands and tentatively pics it up. “Were these like that before,” he asks. Laughing nervously, you hide them away.

  
“No, I was running in the bathroom with some scissors and fell.” Poe looks at you unsure if you’re telling the truth but decides not to press any further.

  
“Didn’t anyone tell you not to run with scissors,” he jests. 

  
“No, I think they might have skipped that, or I just didn’t listen. Probably the latter.”

  
“I could see that. You seem like a fiercely independent woman.” You put your fists on your hips and puff your chest out. 

  
“I am.” You both laugh at your display of theatrics. The noise dies down and you’re left with silence. Shaking your head in disbelief, you say, “I cannot believe you came out here in the middle of the night. It would’ve been fine if you didn’t show up.”

  
“As you said, I am a boy with manners.” You scrunch your face up, not sure how to act to Poe’s kindness. 

  
“You’re a refreshing sight after everything that’s happened.” You think back to how Ren shoved his dick down your throat, how his fingers felt inside you, how it felt to be so vulnerable to him. You feel heat fill your core and you squeeze your legs, trying to get the sensation to go away. How could you be thinking like this with Poe right in front of you? 

  
“I figured it is hard to become one of Ren’s maids so suddenly, and you’re so young.” You look at him confused.

  
“I’m not a maid. They exchanged me.” Poe’s entire demeanor changes. He becomes tense with what seems to be fear.

  
“You’re an Exchange daughter,” he asks cautiously. “I didn’t know.”

  
“Why? What’s wrong with that?”

  
“I better get going before I get caught. I don’t want to lose my job here.” He laughs nervously. “I’ll see you sometime.” He runs as quietly as possible to the open window and climbs down the ladder. 

  
“Poe,” you call back to him, “when can I see you again?” He scrambles down the rungs.

  
“Um... Not for a while. I’ll let you know when I can.” His words rushed and filled with worry as he sprints to where you assume his car is.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your patience in getting this chapter out! I hope you enjoy it!


	6. The Art of Manipulation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you have to deceive others in order to get what needs to be done.

A knock on your door sounds, waking you up from slumber. Pain radiates from your core as you swing your legs over the edge of the bed. This needs to stop. You need to find some way to stop him. Some way for you to say no and not be punished by Ren. His power will cease to exist once you're done with him. Rose appears with a silver platter of food and closes the door behind with her foot.

"Breakfast." Her voice is monotone as she places it on the wooden table.

"Thank you. It must be eight then."

"Yes. It is," she replies plainly.

You trudge over to the food and begin to eat. Rose hovers over as you munch on the vanilla pancakes, you can tell she has something to say. Sitting your fork on the platter with a 'clink' you turn.

"Do you need something," you interrogate.

"About your question, from yesterday, I didn't want to be a maid." Your mouth forms an 'o' shape and her fingers intertwine anxiously over her cream suit. "My family has always worked for the Madames. My father was a gardener, my Mother a maid, and my Brother the family driver. I was the only one who never worked for them. I went to school, focusing on my education. They all wanted me to get out of our situation and make something of myself. Not to be a maid for an upper-class family, but to _become_ an upper-class family." Rose looks out the window, wistfulness in her eye.

"What happened?"

"Well, things changed," she sighs and brushes her bangs. Her friendly demeanor changes to one of defense. "Enjoy your meal. Make sure to place the dishes outside your door once finished."

You trudge over to the food and begin to eat. Rose hovers over as you munch on the vanilla pancakes, you can tell she has something to say. Sitting your fork on the platter with a 'clink' you turn.

"Do you need something," you interrogate.

"About your question, from yesterday, I didn't want to be a maid." Your mouth forms an 'o' shape and her fingers intertwine anxiously over her cream suit. "My family has always worked for the Madames. My father was a gardener, my Mother a maid, and my Brother the family driver. I was the only one who never worked for them. I went to school, focusing on my education. They all wanted me to get out of our situation and make something of myself. Not to be a maid for an upper-class family, but to become an upper-class family." Rose looks out the window, wistfulness in her eye.

"What happened?"

"Well, things changed," she sighs and brushes her bangs. Her friendly demeanor changes to one of defense. "Enjoy your meal. Make sure to place the dishes outside your door once finished."

You stare at the meal perplexed with Rose's words. Still shocked by her small confession of the past. Could she be someone to confide in? A confidant?

You stare at the meal perplexed with Rose's words. Still shocked by her small confession of the past. Could she be someone to confide in? A confidant? Would that even be possible? You continue in a trance of lifting the fork to your teeth and bringing it back down to the plate until there is nothing. Walking to the door you sit the tray down where Rose asked as you hear the faint stomping of heavy shoes. Your breathing stops. Why would he be here this early? It's too soon. You haven't had time to recover from the loss of innocence he preformed on you yesterday. Ren can't do this again-- not yet. Your mind races with the possible outcomes of his appearance as you slam the door shut and lock it. Chest heaving you glance around the room, looking for any possible ways of escape. 

"He can't. He can't," you whisper with little air. His steps reach your room and he wraps on the wood. 

"My Exchange, can I come in?" Your lungs stop with the kindness of his words. This is not the Master speaking-- it can't be. Your mind is blank. "May I come in, Little One?" You feel your heart rate slow with the mention of a pet name. The tone of his voice is unlike the man who almost choked you to death as he came. It sounds of the man who coddled you and took care of your wounds. 

"Is- Is there something you need," you ask with a tremble. 

"Yes. That's why I'm here." The awe you once had for him is replaced with a slight annoyance. 

"Is it not something you can tell me through the door? Do you have to come in?" 

"You're testing my patience Little One." Ren tone radiates dominance and you feel yourself tingle. You slide your feet across the floor and unlock the handle as he burst through the door, lifting you in the process. 

"Hey! Hey! Woah! What are you doing?" With his hands grabbing you by your armpits your shoulders squish into your neck. "What the actual fuck are you doing, Sir," you question as your toes barely touch the ground. 

"Pathetic little child. You don't like it when your Master holds you," Ren taunts. You try to scratch at his arms, but his fingers bury in your pits. 

"Are you insane? I am nearly an adult and you are lifting me like a toddler. So, yeah, of course, I don't like it." His pupils dilate as he drops you and leans towards your mouth.

"I know of some things you like, Little One." His warm breath causes you to shudder with pleasure as he licks your pink lips. "That, for instance. My mere tongue can cause you pleasure." His hands trail down your sides and reach the area between your legs. A wave of desire rushes through your stomach. The ever-growing ache causes you to grip his shoulders, steadying yourself. "I can make you mine with just a flick of my wrist." Ren rubs his hand against you and you moan. 

"Master," you say like a wanton whore, "please, I want you." He chuckles darkly at your confession. 

"Just yesterday you were running from me-- begging for me to leave you alone-- screaming and crying for me to leave you alone. And yet, you dare to say you want me?" You stare down in shame, knowing that he's right, but want to ignore. One hand moves from your pussy and goes around your neck, forcing you to look him in the eye. His desire radiates through them, but his face is a white freckled slate of stone. "Don't worry slut, you'll get what you deserve." His head bobs at the end, compelling you to lean closer. "Soon." His thumb makes it's way to your bottom lip, pulling it down. "Open," Ren commands. You do as told, desperately clinging on to every word he orders and he spits. It tastes of lust and intimidation. "Swallow it you disgusting whore." Your breath hitches and your mouth close as his saliva mix travels into your stomach. Ren smiles wickedly, satisfied with the display of submission. His digits fall from your neck and he walks out of the room. 

Nearly falling to the hardwood you steady your breath, trying to wrap your brain around what happened. Your lack of will astonishes you. How can one single man destroy every bit of personality and confidence with the look of his eyes? No person should have this much power. Gritting your teeth you clench your fist, fire boiling your blood. This man needs to crumble. 

Walking down the carpet stairs you look for Samantha. Hours passed by without so much as a visit from her, leaving you in the dark. You arrive in the kitchen and see Rose slaving away at the stove, cooking, and preparing ingredients for later meals.

"Hello, Rose. Long time no see." She gives you a side-eye, ignoring your greeting. You stand there with your lips in a tight line, unsure of what to say to break the awkwardness. "Umm... Do you need any help? Like cleaning or whatever." She sits the utensil on the metal cooking device. 

"Is that all," she asks with abrasion. 

"If you don't want any help just say, I won't be offended. I completely understand not wanting help. Sometimes it's seen as a form of weakness-- not being able to do your own tasks, but that's not true." Your tone turns into persuasion-- not to convince her to accept help, but to accept friendship. "It shows that you're a strong, self-assured person who knows when they need others." You put a hand on her shoulder. "So, please, let me help Rose." She relaxes with your words. Perfect. 

"Okay. Okay. It would be nice to have someone around here who doesn't treat me like a peasant." 

"Peasant," you mock surprise. 

"Yes." She goes back to fixing food. You turn her body, making sure to get her attention, showing her the seriousness of your words.

"You are a human being. A person with life, feelings, and thoughts of their own." Cupping her face you say, "Rose, you are above them in every way possible." Her eyes start to become glassy-- moved by your sincere words. She sniffles.

"Sorry. I haven't been spoken to in this way for such a long time. Thank you." 

"There's no need to thank me. I'm just treating you as you deserve." Dropping your hands you clap them together. "Well. Is there something I can help you with." She laughs."Yes, actually. Could you run this food over to the gardener, Poe." Your veins run cold. 

"Oh. Yes, I can." Rose passes a paper bag. 

"He should be over by the butterfly garden. It's the place with all the different colored flowers," she says cheerfully.

"I have no idea where that is, but I'm sure I'll find it." You both giggle. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm super, super sorry for the 2 month long wait. I was finishing up another fanfic on Wattpad. Now I am back baby and this story has my full attention. I'm planning on updating once a week, but I haven't decided on the day yet. Anyways, I hope you can forgive me for taking forever. Please enjoy this chapter!


	7. Forgiveness Is A Trait Of Few

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Making amends and keeping friends while also getting fucked in the ass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes anal sex and fingering so if you're not to fond of that sorry.

Sneakers soften the moist dirt, the sensation of each step sending shock waves throughout your body. The recollection of Poe's abrupt exit resurfaces in your mind, causing a frown. Is he afraid of Ren too? The Butterfly Garden comes into view. Monarchs flap their orange and black wings around Poe as he packs in a plant, some soil landing on his shirt. It looks like a scene from a fairytale. So regal and elegant and beautiful. His eyes rise as your footsteps approach and he swallows, parting his lips. Standing, he brushes his hands on his pants, cleaning them. You thrust your arm out with the bag.

"Here. Rose told me to give it to you."

"Uh-thanks." Poe goes silent as he takes his lunch. You shift awkwardly on your toes.

"Does she normally give you lunch," you ask as he opens it?

"Yeah, it's kinda a tradition," he half chuckles. You tilt your head. "Our families have been working here for so long that we've become close friends. I've known her since we were kids," he adds.

"Oh. That's cool." You don't know what else to say and glance to the side.

"I'm sorry," Poe blurts. No words speak from your mouth. "Did I hurt you," he questions softly.

"Do you think you hurt me?"

"Honestly, I don't know, but I would be."

"Well, I'm not you." He takes a few paces closer.

"I did, didn't I?" Crossing your arms you flick your hair back, refusing to admit the answer. "Look, you don't have to forgive me." Poe puts his legs shoulder-width apart. "Just know that I am sorry."

"I had only known you for a few hours. You didn't even know my real name for most of them. What makes you think that someone I don't know could hurt me?" Your sentences come out like daggers.

"For someone who couldn't be hurt by me seems to be genuinely angry."

"Don't patronize me, Dameron. I have been in this house for a day, stripped from what family I had, and forced to live in a place where I have nobody." You march furiously towards him, face hot. All the different tension spewing out of your vocal cords "I have no one."

"You have me," he says your name sincerely. "Even though it may not seem like much, you have me." You feel your eyes water and scoff.

"I don't know you," you spit bitterly.

"You don't have to," his words come out in earnest. "You're crying." Poe's fingers go to your eyes but you turn and wipe the tears.

"Don't look at me," you say wet and jog away, but a gentle grasp halts you. It swings you into a warm chest. Poe embraces you, petting the back of your skull. "No. No. Don't touch me. I don't need this."

"Yes, you do."

"I do not need anything from you, or Rose, or Samantha, or Ren." Your palms thud into his pecs with the enunciation of each name.

"You don't need anything from them, but that doesn't mean I don't need something from you." You're taken back by his words.

"What could you possibly need from me," you condescendingly ask.

"For starts, a pretty smile," he shows his white teeth encouraging you to do the same, but you glare. "Okay, I see that's not working. Maybe some of that lovely humor then?"

"No," responding blankly.

"What about saying you accept my apology," he suggests lightly. "The bare minimum is all." Eyelids appear in your vision as you crane your neck to meet Poe's. They are warm and sincere, the inside of your heart melts, but you fight it. Trying to will it into subzero temperatures again, it's impossible. His gaze is like the carbon gases releasing into the air, destroying the layers of the ozone.

"I accept, but I don't forgive you." Poe laughs, thinking you're joking with him, soon realizing that's not the case.

"Just take your time then." He pats you nervously on the back and releases, the salty water dried up.

"Will you come visit me?" Pausing to comprehend what you're going to say next you purse your lips. "Whenever I have a free moment, at three, as I said before." Poe nods his head lightly.

"I can do that. I'll take my break then." You smile, your dry skin cracking from the water that streamed there. "Now, that's what I wanted to see." He hooks a digit under your chin, pulling you to look closer. 

"What... Are you doing," you question dragging out the 'what'? He quickly drops his arm, brushing them together. "You better get back to work before the Master," mocking the title, "punishes you." Poe's pupils widen in a horror like a shock. Doubling back you chuckle, trying to get as much distance as possible from those words.

"Calm down, Poe. It was just a joke." He scrunches his eyebrows in doubt but doesn't press further.

Waltzing into the library you search for books to pass the times until your moments of companionship. The swish of your pants is the only sound bouncing off the wooden cases of words, not knowing what exactly to look for. Yet eyes hungry for any form of entertainment. Unsure of how the novels are organized you stare at the spines, trying to decipher the golden indention letters, dragging the pads of your fingers on them. The feelings are cool and reassuring as you notice a book divider. It's unlike one you've ever seen. Instead of the usual thin slab fitted under the pages, it's round and distorted, the black metal looking to be burnt and smashed. You pick it up examining the sculpture, rotating it around in your hands, smoothing palms on the textured metal. A door slams, gasping you drop it to the floor, clutching your fists over your heart. Ren walks slowly to you unbuckling his belt, a whimper escaping your throat as your stomach bubbles in fear.

"What are you doing here," he interrogates. Your breath coming out in shaking hushes. "I asked you a question, and when I do, I expect an answer."

"I wanted to find a book," whispering like a child.

"A book," he hums ripping the leather from the loops. "Did you find what you were looking for?" He drops it.

"No," speaking meekly you shy away. He pushes you against the hardbacks, ripping your pants down, exposing your clothed ass.

"We'll look for one." Ren's clothing leaves his body. "On your knees." Grabbing your neck he forces you on the floor, creating no room for protest. "You're going to get what you deserve," he grunts in your ear, licking it in the process. You feel your pussy swell for him, clenching around your soft flesh. He spreads your cheeks. "That's what you want isn't it?" You don't answer. He smacks your butt, your hips buck in pleasure. "Answer me, Slut." He spits on your asshole rubbing it around.

"Yes. Yes, it is, Master." Sliding a finger in slowly you try to move away, the other hand stopping you. "Oh my God. Why- Why does it feel like that," you pant. "It feels like I'm going to shit." Master gently thrusts his index.

"You won't." He adds another, spitting and making you moan.

"It's warm. You're making me feel warm." He rubs his digits against your wet pussy, causing you to clench with anticipation.

"Not yet, my Greedy Little Slave. You're going to take it in the ass first." You rasp out a moan from your chest, the vibrations bouncing inside the cavern.

"My- My ass? But I've never had anything in there." Ren spits again on the filled hole. He laughs deeply, bellowing out his sadistic voice, and adds another finger, burning the skin that surrounds it. You whimper as he circles your clit, making you forget about the pain in the ass. He bends over, smothering your back with bites and nips as your cunt drips for his cock, knowing that it won't receive. You relax your muscles and suddenly feel a rush of euphoria. The once tense muscles loosening and quivering as your orgasm waves through your organs. "It feels so good in my ass Master." He breathes through his nose slowly taking his digits out. You feel empty without it, but Ren doesn't let you feel that way for long. He wraps his hand around your jaw.

"Spit," he commands and you obey. The bubbles streaming out of your mouth. "That's all you got, whore?" He slaps the saliva all over your face, dragging you up to another section of books and slamming you on it. "Is this the type of reading you're looking for?" The pamphlet of Thomas Paine's Common Sense inches from your eyelashes. You don't answer. He smacks your face. "Not this one? Well, maybe this will satisfy your needs." He intertwines his fist with your hair, leading you to another. Pride and Prejudice imprints on your skin. Ren spreads your cheeks once more putting his finger back in. "You will spit and this time it will be enough unless you want me to go in dry." You muster up all the enzyme-rich water you can, feeling as if a drink has been poured into your mouth, and release it on his palm. "That's a good girl," he hums slathering the shaft and head of his dick. Putting two digits on each side of your hole Master Ren opens the soft puckered edges, creating a small gap as you feel the firm flesh of his tip tease. You gasp loudly, sucking in air as you brace for impact. He enters your ass tearing at your muscles and you yelp, slamming your hand against the classical literature lining the wood.

"Master," you scream as he brings you toward his pelvis, "please stop! It hurts." Tears that you thought were once gone resurface again, but not of emotion-- Of pain. "Oh, God. Please stop Ren, please. It hurts so much. It's tearing my insides apart." A sob gets stuck in your esophagus, choking. He groans at your pulsating clenches, licking his lips.

"Didn't I tell you I would tear you apart hole by hole," he salivates through his teeth. He grabs your strands, craning your skull to him, biting your ear, almost ripping it off. The pain sends pleasurable strings throughout your body nearly making his cock tolerable. Sensing your ease he begins to thrust faster, your cavernous hole slowly filling the blood vessels with honey. It's a sensation you have never experienced. Always seeing that area of the body as a disgusting taboo place that no one should be in, but this man-- This intoxicating man makes you grateful he decided to violate it. You close your eyes and follow the rhythm of his hips, losing yourself to the beating of his balls. "You like that," he questions darkly, moaning in response. "Dirty whore you do." Cranking your neck upward you see Ren staring down at your clapping skin, lips wet with desire, forehead shiny from the sweat of lust as his mane sticks. He appears just a lost in this tunnel of ever-growing climax as you do. He catches your observation, pushing your nose into the cardboard as his nails sweep down your cunt, shoving three fingers in. His body makes you feel stuffed like this asshole was put here specifically for him and no one else. With all your holes filled an urge to pee begins, you squeeze your bladder shut, not wanting to soil the floor. But the pressure becomes stronger and stronger until it bursts with the bone-chilling orgasm. Your vagina can't stop itself from pushing off the filtered liquid out. Bracing yourself a deep grunt echo from your vocal column, making you hyperventilate with each ripple. Your Master continues fucking all the pleasures out as his own liquid releases. Final thrusts cause your thighs to quiver and shake, extending your highs. He slowly removes his cock, excessive amounts of cum from both coatings.

"Fuck," is all your manage to say as you fall to your knees.

"Good. Now I don't have to tell you." Master Ren spins you around, lips inches away from his head. "Suck." You hesitate, grimacing. "You are my slave, are you not? Now clean your Master's cock. I don't want your filthy cum on it all day." You hold your breath before licking the skin, scared of the flavor, but it doesn't taste like much. Nothing like shit would. It's tangy. You begin to place the entire thing in your mouth, licking a sucking as you were told. Once satisfied with the outcome Ren steps back, observing your exposed areas and seeing the puddles between your legs, he smirks. "Clean that up too," he demands. Moving your body you drag your tongue across the floor, embarrassed by the act you're doing. He watches with a blank face as he composes his entire. With the stain gone, his lips form an upwards angle, not quite a smile. "I expect you know about the event that is happening due to your arrival." You nod. "I have left the clothes you are going to wear."

"I thought your wife would be doing that."

"Do you think my wife is in charge of you?"

"Well, both of you are. I have to listen to both," you say matter of factly. He hums.

"Ah. We'll see," Ren responds as he leaves.

You sit in at the desk inside your room, reading through the short pamphlet Common Sense. The sentences are hard to comprehend. Slapping it down you find a pencil, underlining and jotting down notes in the margins. You're sure Samantha or the Kylo Ren won't even notice this copy is gone, let alone filled with notes. Spending hours scouring these pages for anything of use Rose enters the room. Quickly covering your work as she sits the silver tray you're getting used to and grin.

"How has your day been," you ask politely.

"There have been worse ones," she giggles out. "I'm not sure if this is something you would like, but if you don't that's all right. I can just make something else." She opens the lid and the smell of the ocean wafts out of the steam. Your jaw becomes a twenty-year-old rubber band.

"This," you stutter, "is amazing." Smoked salmon, scallops sautéed in balsamic vinaigrette, asparagus, and home smashed potatoes stare back extravagantly. Rose puts her hands together in joy.

"Oh! Thank goodness you like it. The Mistress absolutely hates seafood."

"I am not her," you say with firm kindness. Her pink lips grow thinner.

"You certainly are not." She lightly bows away. "Please enjoy it."

The luxurious sustenance is devoured, you make sure to savor every bite of it, grateful for Rose's thoughtfulness as the shadowy figure of guilt looms over your limbs.


End file.
